


Kiss the Girl

by Panic_CelestialInk



Category: Fullmetal Alchemist: Brotherhood & Manga
Genre: Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Fluff, Gen, Multi, OT3, Sharing a Body
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-25
Updated: 2017-03-25
Packaged: 2018-10-10 11:42:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 11,693
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10436910
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Panic_CelestialInk/pseuds/Panic_CelestialInk
Summary: A ball was the last thing Lan Fan wanted to attend . . . .





	

**Author's Note:**

> So, this is what happens when a FMA Greelingfan fan listens to Disney Music. As soon as I heard the song, I got a mental image of Lan Fan as Ariel, Greed as Sebastian and Ling as Eric.
> 
> It's a bit corny, but I wrote it for myself, to share with everyone on my birthday, so I hope everyone enjoys it. 
> 
> I almost couldn't post it up, since the internet at home died, but my Aunt kindly let me use her wi-fi.

 

“Brother, do you see them?” Al asked as he craned his neck.

 

Ed sighed. “Al, if I saw them, don’t you think I’d tell you?”

 

“Fullmetal, are you sure you have the right arrival time? We’ve been waiting here for over half an hour.”  The Colonel checked his watch. “Make that nearly an hour.”

 

Ed gritted his teeth, and pulled out a piece of paper from his pocket. “Of course I have the right time!” He thrust the paper at the Colonel. “Look, it says—and I’m quoting Ling here—that they were arriving at platform seven at quarter to ten.”

 

“Well, they’re not here, Fullmetal. Obviously, you got it wrong.”

 

Ed clenched his fists and thrust the paper back into his pocket. He resumed scanning the crowds. The train station had a familiar feeling for him—probably from the years he spent travelling with Al in search of the Philosopher’s Stone. The trains still spewed smog and coal dust onto the crowds. There was a still a cacophony of noise, made from the excited shouts of reunited families, the clack and hiss of the steam engines as they pulled away from the platforms, and the rattling of trolleys as people dashed here and there with their luggage. The only real difference was that there was a greater diversity of people bustling about on the platforms now days: There were refined Amestrians in suits and dresses, dark-skinned Ishvallans with pastel coloured tunics, and Xingese in fine silks, decorated with elaborate embroidery.

 

Except, he couldn’t see a _particular_ group of Xingese people anywhere.

 

“If they don’t arrive soon, Fullmetal, we’re going to have to send out a search party for them.” The Colonel sighed. “The last thing I need is to explain to the Fuhrer that I lost the Xingese Emperor, thanks to you.”

 

“I didn’t ask to be part of the welcoming committee. Why the hell did you rope me into this? It’s not like I’m part of the military anymore,” Ed grumbled.

 

Al elbowed him in the ribs. “Come on, Brother. It’ll be nice to see Mei and the others again.”

 

“Oh, so _that’s_ why you’re here.”  Ed chuckled as Al blushed. “You planning on becoming a Prince someday, Al?”

 

“I-I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Al looked away and stared fixedly at the crowd. Still Ed, caught the rest of his mumbled words “She is a lovely girl, though.”

 

“That’s why Al’s here. It still doesn’t explain why I’m here. Or wearing this monkey-suit.”

 

Ed pointed at his clothes. Like the Colonel and Al, he was wearing a well-tailored, black suit, with a scarf draped over his shoulders. He’d even polished his shoes until they gleamed, and had his thick, golden hair drawn back into a neat ponytail.  Winry said he looked good, but honestly he would have preferred to be in his worn trousers and his fraying coat. The only reason why he hadn’t worn his red coat was because the Colonel threatened to incinerate it if he did.

 

“You’re here because you have a good relationship with the Emperor. And, because Fuhrer Grumman asked me to welcome the Xingese Emperor for his official visit.”

 

“If it’s an official visit, why isn’t there a bunch of military personnel here in uniform to welcome Ling?”

 

The Colonel’s face became grim. “Fuhrer Grumman told me that there have been rumours of dissidents in Xing—and assassination attempts on the Emperor.”

 

Ed felt a chill sweep through him. “That’s not going to work—Greed and Ling will just heal and impale the bastard with their claws.”

 

_If they managed to get to the guy before Lan Fan tore him apart for hurting her Emperor/Homunculus._

 

“True, but an assassination attempt might reveal that the Emperor is actually a homunculus—and if that happens, given the public hatred for homunculi, we might find ourselves under pressure to declare war on Xing.”

 

“You’re not serious?!”  Ed exclaimed, and Al swung around to stare at the Colonel.

 

The Colonel shrugged. “People are afraid of what Father almost did—and scared people don’t think logically.”

 

“But, Ling and Greed have done a lot for the Xingese people!”

 

“I know, Al. But, if people find out about the Emperor, they won’t care. Which is why we should avoid causing any international incidents. Ling will have to show face as the Emperor at some formal events, but other than that, we’re keeping everything low key. Or we _would_ ,” the Colonel said with a sharp look at Ed, “if you hadn’t lost the Emperor.”

 

“I didn’t lose him! Greeling probably got distracted by the buffet table or something.”

 

Al frowned at him. “Brother, you shouldn’t call them that. They don’t like it.”

 

“It works,” Ed inststed. “And, besides, it’s fun to annoy them.”

 

Al sighed. “You’re such a child sometimes, Brother.”

 

“Whatever.” Ed looked around again. “I know they’re here somewhere . . . they’re probably hiding so that they can do that weird sudden appearance thing.”

 

“You mean like this?”

 

The men jumped, and emitted high pitched yells. Ed spun around, his hands immediately coming up to protect his face, even as Al clapped and Roy went for his gloves. They froze as they recognised the speaker.

 

Ed glared at her. “Lan Fan! What the hell are you doing?!”

 

Sure enough, it was Lan Fan. The Xingese warrior looked the same as she usually did, in a leather breastplate, with her white sash tied carefully around her hips and her patterned mask in place. Ed noticed that her automail blade was extended, and sharpened to a razor edge. He also happened to notice that her lips were twitching.

 

“I’m sorry.” She pressed her palms together and bowed. “I couldn’t resist.”

 

Ed rolled his eyes, and then extended his fist. Al did the same, and Lan Fan gingerly bumped her knuckles against theirs.

 

“Well, it’s good to see you,” Al said. “How’ve you been?”

 

“I’ve been well.”

 

“So, where is the Royal Idiot?” Ed asked.

 

“The Emperor,” Lan Fan said, giving him a pointed look, “is on his way.”

 

“I’m glad,” The Colonel said. “I was worried that Fullmetal had the wrong time.”

 

Lan Fan shook her head. “No. We told him that time. I just decided to alter our travel plans without informing anyone.”

 

“Why? Do you know how long we’ve been waiting?” Ed demanded.

 

“It was the best way to ensure the Emperor’s safety—and the safety of her Highness.” She sounded unapologetic.

 

Lan Fan glanced over her shoulder. “And, you won’t have to be waiting much longer—here they come.”

 

Ed looked past her and saw two Xingese people walking towards him. He immediately recognised them as Greeling—yes, Ed was going to call them that, no matter what Al said—though, the broad grin told Ed that Greed was currently in control of their body— and Mei. They’d changed a bit since Ed had last seen them. Mei had grown taller, and she now kept her long hair coiled in two neat buns on each side of her face. She wore a cherise, sleeveless tunic, cut in the Xingese style, and loose black trousers. Xiao Mei was perched on her shoulder, as usual. She looked pretty, Ed supposed. Not as gorgeous as Winry, but not bad either.

 

Greed, on the other hand . . .  

 

“I thought you said we were trying to keep a low profile?” Ed asked, as he cringed over Greed’s outfit.

 

“We _were_ ,” The Colonel said, dryly.

 

“Then, why is he wearing _that_?”

 

Lan Fan sighed. “Greed picked out the outfit, and His Majesty liked it.” From her tone, Ed guessed that there had been several arguments over the wardrobe choice between the three of them. Ed looked back at the homunculus. Greed was wearing a black bomber jacket, with fur around the collar, despite the warmth of the day. There was a red scarf tied around his upper arm, and he wore tight leather pants and leather boots that gleamed as he walked.

 

“At least we’ve found them.” The Colonel raised his hand, and waved. The two of them glanced at the group. Mei’s eyes went wide, and her face broke into a smile.

 

“My sweet Alphonse!” she yelled, as she dashed across the platform, hurled herself at Al, and knocked him to the ground. Al landed hard on his back, as Mei clung to his chest. Xiao Mei even went to nuzzle his neck in greeting.

 

“H-hey Mei,” He pushed himself upright, and wrapped his arm around her. “How’ve you been?”

 

“I’ve been good. Oh, my sweet Alphonse, I’ve missed you.”

 

Al blushed. “I missed you too, Mei.”

 

“Hey, Half-pint, can we keep the public displays of affection to a bare minimum?” Greed asked as he reached them. “I don’t want to throw up all over my new shoes.”

 

Mei glared at him, but Ed laughed.

 

“Good to see your sense of humour is still intact, Greeling.”

 

Greed narrowed his eyes at Ed. “Call me that again, and I’ll shred you to pieces. You can clearly see I’m Greed.”

 

“Yeah, but you’re always switching places with Ling, so it’s hard to keep track.”

 

“That’s why the schedule’s in place.”

 

“You two never keep to the schedule,” Mei pointed out.

 

Greed opened his mouth to argue, but the Colonel cut him off.

 

“We need to get going, so save the arguments for later. My car’s just outside the station.”

 

Greed grinned. “Lead the way, Fireball.”

 

***

 

Riza glanced down the road. The Colonel had told her to meet him at the _Grand Hotel_ almost an hour and a half ago. The Fuhrer had ordered Riza to book the Emperor into this hotel, and Riza could certainly see why. It was situated just outside of the city centre, so there was less traffic roaring up and down the streets, though the air was still tainted with the stench of automobiles. The pavements were also similarly busy, with couples walking hand-in-hand, and businessmen rushing here and there with briefcases flying, and coffee clutched in their hands. The _Grand Hotel_ towered over the chaos, like a king surveying his realm. There were two carefully groomed trees in ceramic pots on either side of the polished glass doors. A green awning jutted out above the street, offering relief to pedestrians who wanted to escape the sun’s glare. A doorman in a green outfit stood at attention—and had glared at Riza more than once as she’d walked past him.

 

She checked her watch again. Though he could be forgetful sometimes, the Colonel never kept her waiting. Black Hayate tugged on his lead and whined. As she was supposed to be acting undercover, she’d decided to bring Black Hayate along. It wouldn’t look suspicious for a woman in casual clothing to wander through the bustling city with her dog. Besides, Black Hayate’s sense of smell might come in handy if anyone tried to harm the Colonel, or the Emperor.

 

“No, Black Hayate. We can’t go look for them.”

 

The Colonel was fine. She was just being paranoid. Besides, if anything did happen to him, he had his ability to transmute without a circle, as well as his flame alchemy to defend himself. And, it wasn’t as if he was alone. The Elrics were with him.  Honestly, she should be more worried about whoever was stupid enough to attack the Colonel.

 

Still, she couldn’t deny the relief that crashed through her when Black Hayate started barking, and she saw the Colonel walking towards her with a crooked smile on his face.

 

“Glad to see you’re still at your post, Lieutenant.”

 

“It would take more than a delay to keep me from my post, sir. Although, I did miss my lunch.”

 

He winced. “We’ll have to fix that once we’ve gotten the Emperor settled in.”

 

Her eyes moved to the two Xingese people in the group.

 

Greed—at least, she guessed it was Greed— smirked at her. “How’s it going, Sharpshooter?”

 

“It’s good to see you, Greed.”

 

“And me!” Something slammed into Riza, and she found herself being squeezed by an excitable Princess. “I haven’t seen you in so long!”

 

“Well, you’re all here now,” she said, acknowledging Ed and Al’s waves with a nod. Then, she looked back at the Colonel.  “May I ask what the delay was about, sir?”

 

The Colonel jerked his thumb over his shoulder. “Fullmetal got the time of arrival wrong.”

 

“What?! That’s bullshit.” Ed said, coming to stand by the Colonel. “Lan Fan decided to change the travel plans without—hey, where did she go?!”

 

They looked around, but Riza couldn’t see any sign of the Xingese warrior anywhere. Neither Mei nor Greed looked surprised though.

 

“She’s probably gone to do some safety checks,” Mei said. “Oh, is this your dog?”

 

She pointed at Black Hayate, who was growling at Greed.

 

“Yeah, yeah. I know. You hate me.” He must have noticed something in Riza’s expression, because he shrugged. “Animals hate homunculi. Toots says it’s because of our qi, but personally, I just think they don’t know a good thing when they see one.”

 

“Or maybe they do. That’s why they hate your ass,” Ed said, which made Mei giggle.

 

Mei crouched down by Black Hayate, who gave Greed one last growl, and then turned his back on the homunculus. Xiao Mei watched as the dog came closer to Mei. She inched forward, along Mei’s shoulder, her tiny nose twitching. Black Hayate sniffed, and bared his teeth.

 

“No, Black Hayate!” Riza snapped.

 

Black Hayate gave a small whine, and took another cautious sniff of the panda. At the same time, Xiao Mei leant forward. Slowly, Black Hayate’s tail began to wag, and Xiao Mei jumped across to his head. Mei let out a squeal.

 

“Aww, they’ve made friends!” Mei reached out, and scratched Black Hayate roughly behind the ears, taking care not to dislodge Xiao Mei. “Aren’t you such a sweetheart? Can I take you back to Xing?”

 

“Oh, hell no, Half-pint! We’ve already converted an entire wing of the Imperial Palace into your cat sanctuary. We’re not about to start a home for stray Amestrian dogs.”

 

 “So, shall we get everyone settled in, Brother?” Al asked.

 

His eyes were alight, and Riza had the feeling that he wanted to get Mei alone so he could ask about the “cat sanctuary.”

 

“Good idea,” Ed said, though he sent a suspicious look at Al. “Then, I can go back to my rooms and explain to Winry why I’m so late. She’ll probably hit me with a wrench again.”

 

Greed snorted. “Looks like you got yourself a keeper there, Runt.”

 

Ed clenched his fists. “You talking shit about my wife, Greed?”

 

“Nah, I like Peaches. I just think she can do better than a runt like you.”

 

“You bas—”

 

“Can it, Fullmetal,” the Colonel said, steeping between the two men. “we don’t want any incidents. Let’s just go inside and get the Emperor settled in.”

 

“You’ll have to go on without me.” Riza said.

 

Everyone stared at her.

 

“Why?”

 

She held up Black Hayate’s lead. “The hotel policy is that no dogs are allowed. No matter how well trained they are.”

 

The Colonel scowled. “That’s ridiculous. They just don’t know a good customer when they see one, hey boy?”

 

The Colonel knelt down and patted Black Hayate, disregarding the way it messed his suit, and ignoring Xiao Mei’s irritated chirrup. Black Hayate was doing a beautiful job of feigning being hurt. He knew that the Colonel was a complete pushover when it came to dogs. No matter how many times Riza told the Colonel not to, he would always slip Black Hayate food from his plate when he thought that she wasn’t looking, or bring him extra biscuits when he came over. He even would pop past her apartment, and beg her to let him take Black Hayate out for a walk in the park. More often than not, she would go with them, and the two of them would wander around on the grassy lawns for hours, laughing and playing catch with Black Hayate.

 

“I’ll stay here with Black Hayate,”Mei said suddenly, and Xiao Mei chirruped her agreement.

 

“Are you sure?” Ed asked.

 

“Of course.”

 

The Colonel frowned. “I don’t know. My orders are to protect you and the Emperor. That’s going to be hard to do if you’re here on the street.”

 

“I’ll stay with her,” Al offered. “That way she won’t be alone.”

 

“Alphonse, you don’t need to stay,” Mei mumbled.

 

“No, it’s fine. Ed and I have been to so many hotels over the years that I’m a bit sick of them, to be honest.”

 

Ed laughed. “True! But, most of the places we stayed at weren’t nearly as fancy as this.”

 

Greed raised an eyebrow. “You call this fancy? Have you seen where we live?”

 

“Sorry,” the Colonel said dryly, “But, we weren’t able to rent you a palace for your visit. You’ll just have to make do.”

 

Ed rolled his eyes. “You get used to luxuries quickly.”

 

Greed grinned. “Of course. What’s the point of being Emperor if you don’t get some perks?”

 

***

 

 

Riza watched as Greed looked around the room and whistled.

 

“Not bad. Not bad at all,” he said, as he nodded to himself—or maybe he was nodding to Ling? It was hard to tell. She had to admit she agreed with him. The _Grand Hotel_ certainly lived up to its name. The walls were painted a pale cream colour, and had brass lamps built into the wall for lighting. There was sturdy, polished furniture dotted about: a dresser, a wardrobe, and a double bed that was the approximate size of her bed _room_.  Riza watched as Greed watched around the room, his feet sinking into the thick carpet. He went over to the bed and squeezed the pillows, smirking at their plushness.

 

“I think I could stay here for a while.”

 

“It seems safe enough,” Lan Fan said, as she sprang in through the window.

 

“Gah! Toots, don’t do that!”

 

Lan Fan bowed to him and then looked at Riza and the Colonel. “I wanted to apologise for making you wait for us. I never intended to inconvenience anyone.”

 

“Except, Ed, hey, Toots?”

 

Lan Fan didn’t answer him.

 

He tilted his head. “So, the kid wants to know where Toots’ rooms are,” Greed said.

 

Riza pointed to a wooden door directly opposite her.

 

“As requested, we booked her into the adjoining room,” Riza said.

 

“Adjoining room, huh?” Greed smirked at Lan Fan, and Riza could see the red tinge of her blush around the edges of her mask.

 

“It’s so I can protect you,”  Riza heard Lan fan mumble.

 

“All right. There’s just one thing left to do.” The Colonel said, as he pulled out an envelope and held it out Greed.

 

“What’s this, Fireball?” Greed asked as he turned the paper back and forth. Riza caught a glimpse of a wax seal, with what appeared to be a tiny moustache stamped into it.

 

“It’s an invitation. Fuhrer Grumman thought that one of the official functions that you could attend would be a ball hosted at the Armstrong manor.”

 

Greed’s eyes widened. “A ball? Do I look like I want to wear a monkey suit?”

 

“You already are,” Roy pointed out with a smirk.

 

Greed glared at him. “You just have no sense of style.”

 

“I think you’d be expected to wear something along the lines of Imperial robes,” Riza interjected before the two men could start arguing. “There may be questions asked if the Xingese Emperor turned up looking like an Amestrian.”

 

“And, you might want to hide that,” The Colonel said, as he pointed at Greed’s left hand.

 

“There’s nothing wrong with my tattoo!”

 

“Except if people see it, there might be a bit of a panic.”

 

“There’s no way—”

 

He was suddenly cut off by another voice emanating from his mouth..

 

“Don’t worry,” Ling said. “I’ll sort something out with the tattoo.”

 

“Shut up, you damn idiot. It’s my turn today!’ Greed  looked very annoyed that he’d been interrupted by his own larynx.

 

“All right. Then, we’ll leave you to get settled in.” The Colonel started towards the door, and Riza followed him, after executing another bow towards Greed.

 

She shut the door behind her, and headed down the corridor alongside the Colonel. As she walked, she felt something in the pit of her stomach. She stopped noticing the panelled walls of the corridor, or the polished brass lamps embedded in the walls, as she slowed and came to a standstill.  An instinct she couldn’t quite name held her in place. The Colonel immediately noticed she wasn’t behind him. He spun around and came to her side.

 

“Lieutenant?”

 

“I’ll be down in a minute, sir.”

 

The Colonel frowned. “Are you sure?”

 

She nodded. The Colonel sighed, but, after another worried glance at her, he strode down the hallway.

 

Riza turned and went back towards the room. In Ishval, she’d learnt to trust her instincts—and right now her instincts were telling her to go back to where the Emperor and Lan Fan were. She paused outside the door, as she heard voices. She leaned in, and peered  through the ajar door. Lan Fan was moving briskly through the room, checking under the bed, and in the cupboards for any traps or assassins. She moved aside the heavy curtains, and even stuck her blade behind the wardrobe. Ling—at least, Riza thought it was Ling—was watching Lan Fan work with a half-exasperated expression on his face.

 

“You see, I told you it was safe,” Ling said.

 

“It never hurts to be careful,” she said, as she removed her mask and set it down on the bed.

 

Ling chuckled, but there was a tinge of sadness in his voice. “Fu really drilled that lesson into us, huh?

 

She stood at attention. “Yes. Is there anything I can do for you, Your Majesty?”

 

“Yes,” he cleared his throat. “Lan Fan, I don’t want you to attend the ball.”

 

Her eyes went wide. “What?! Why not? Who will protect you? How did I fail in my duties? Please, your Majesty, I apologise if I did something wrong but—”

 

“NO! You didn’t do anything wrong!

 

“Then why. . . ”

 

“Lan Fan, I don’t want you to attend the ball as my guard,” he rubbed the back of his neck, “I want you to attend as a guest.”

 

“A _guest?”_

 

“Yes, a—” He chocked and Lan Fan started towards him.

 

“Your Majesty?”

 

“Nope. Just me.”  

 

“Greed?”

 

“Yep. The little pissant’s pissing me off. What I really wanted to ask is if you’d go as my partner.” Suddenly, he smirked. “Yes, _my_ partner. You snooze, you lose, you little pissant.”

 

“Greed, you’re being ridiculous.”

 

“Hey, it was Ling’s idea, too. He just didn’t have the guts to say anything.”

 

Lan Fan looked away. “You’re both being ridiculous. If I’m not on duty, who will protect you when I’m—”

 

“Having fun?” she scowled at him and he continued. “Look, Toots, you need a break. You’ve been working twenty-four-seven, seven days a week since we crossed the desert after taking out my old man. I can’t even remember the last time I saw you relax. You need it.”

 

“You need protection more.”

 

“It’s not like we’re helpless, you know? I’m immortal and I’ve got an Ultimate Shield.” He sheathed his arm in it, and flexed it for emphasis. The light gleamed off the tips of his talons.

 

“You’ve died before, you know.”

 

“For fuck’s—” he threw his hands in the air. “Ling, you talk to her!”

 

“Lan Fan, Greed’s right. You need to take a night off. Unless . . . unless you don’t want to be our partner?”

 

“Of course I want to be your partner! I just think you’re being ridiculous, jeopardising your safety for something as trivial as giving me a night off.”

 

“ _Trivial?_ ” Ling snarled. “There’s nothing _trivial_ about your happiness. Not to me.”

 

“Or me.”

 

Lan Fan blinked, and Riza saw a blush running up her face. Greed grinned at her—Riza could tell it was him from the way he folded his arms.

 

“So, you’re willing to be our partner, huh?”

 

She nodded.

 

He frowned. “Okay, okay. Fine. I get your point.”

 

“I didn’t say anything.”

 

“I was talking to Ling.”

 

He went over to her and pulled something out of his pocket. It was a swollen leather bag. Riza heard it clink as he dropped it into Lan Fan’s surprised hands.

 

“Now, we know you haven’t got a dress to wear, so why don’t you take that and get yourself something nice?”

 

Lan Fan gaped at the bag. “This is far, far too much! I can’t take this.”

 

Ling apparently had gotten control again, because it was his voice that said. “No, it’s not. It’s nowhere near enough.”

 

Then, their eyes met, and for a second, Riza saw another pair of familiar figures superimposed on them. A man with white gloves covered with alchemical symbols, and a woman with blonde hair, and wearing a shirt that hid the scars on her back. She felt a sharp stab of pity for the five of them. Then, Lan Fan bowed, and the figures disappeared.

 

“Thank you, Your Majesty. I’ll bring back the change.”

 

“Don’t worry about it. You can always bankrupt me in revenge for making you go to a ball.”

 

***

 

“Have you ever seen a shop like this before?” Mei asked Winry.

 

Winry shook her head. Lan Fan’s eyes were wide, and even Xiao Mei looked stunned. Riza couldn’t blame them, not when the _Belle_ was so different. Most of the other stores in Central City prided themselves on their gleaming window, spotless interiors and neatly organised racks of clothing. In contrast, the _Belle_ had bay windows curved out into the street, and were flecked with age spots. The door was made from wood, and had an old bell tinkling whenever a customer walked in and out—just like it had when the four of them had entered the room.

 

The interior wasn’t any less . . . unique. Mannequins were dotted haphazardly around the room, doubling as hat-racks or coat racks. Accessories—bags, shoes, jewellery –hung from hooks built into the walls. Light gleamed off the curtain of dangling crystals that separated the front of the store from the back. There were a number of mobile clothing racks that creaked as the breeze ruffled the clothes. It was, in all honesty, a cross between an antique store and a hoarder’s nest. It was also one of the few places that Riza could find dresses. Modern fashions in Central City tended to favour low backs.

 

There was a tinkle of crystal and a woman walked through the beaded curtain. She was a hefty woman, yet she carried herself in such a way that all the attention was immediately hers to command. Her thick, dark hair and sparkling eyes spoke of the beauty she’d once commanded. There was a faux stole around her neck, and a cigarette holder placed between her fingers.

 

“Well, Hawkeye. I’ve been wondering when you’d turn up.” She took a drag of her cigarette as she spoke.

 

Riza smiled. “It’s good to see you too, Madame Christmas.”

 

“How’s Roy-boy? You still keeping him in line?”

 

“I do my best with the Colonel.”

 

The corner of Madame Christmas’  mouth curled upwards. “I bet you do.”

 

Riza felt a blush start, and shook her head. For some reason, Madame Christmas always managed to make her feel like a schoolgirl.

 

“Now, who are these?” Madame Christmas asked as she eyed the other three.

 

“I’m Winry Rockbell-Elric,” Winry said, and held out her hand.

 

Madame Christmas shook it. “So, you’re Fullmetal’s girl? I didn’t realise he had good taste.”

 

Winry blushed, and Madame Christmas’ gaze moved on. “And who are you?”

 

“Princess Mei Chang of the Chang Clan of Xing.” Mei gave a slight bow, and Xiao Mei mimicked the gesture.

 

“I see. So, you’re the Princess Roy-boy was saying Alphonse had a thing for.” Madame Christmas looked Mei up and down, and then nodded. Her eyes then fell on Lan Fan. The younger woman bowed, pressing her palms together.

 

“And, you are?”

 

“Lan Fan of the Yao Clan. Imperial Guard to his Majesty, Emperor Ling Yao of Xing.”

 

“Ah.” That single syllable spoke volumes, and Riza saw Lan Fan squirm.

 

Madame Christmas eyed them again, and waved her hand. “Don’t just stand there. Feel free to look around. But, don’t go too far. I might have something special in mind for you three.”

 

Riza saw the women exchange looks, and then cautiously move towards the clothes racks. Mei seized Lan Fan’s hand, and tugged her towards the garments.

 

“I need you to help me choose a dress.”

 

“I don’t know how much help I’ll be.”

 

“Haven’t you ever been to a party before?”

 

“I have . . . but I usually just wore my uniform.”

 

"That’s not going to work this time,” Mei said.

 

“I know.” There was a helpless look on Lan Fan’s face as she stared at the dresses.

 

Madame  Christmas shook her head at the other women, and turned her attention back to Riza.

 

“So, what can I do for you, Hawkeye?”

 

“The usual, Madame Christmas.”

 

“Yes. I have a dress in mind for you. No low back, but there is a panel cut in the front to reveal a little of your assets. And, I chose crimson. A blonde like you can get away with that colour. Roy-boy won’t be able to take his eyes—or keep his hands—off you.”

 

“He’d better,” Riza said dryly, “or someone will accuse him of seducing his subordinates.”

 

It would be a different story when they got back to her apartment, though . . . then, Riza sincerely hoped Madame Christmas was right. 

 

Madame Christmas chuckled. Her eyes flickered back over to the other women.

 

“Don’t touch that!” she barked.

 

Winry froze in the middle of reaching for an orange dress. “But—”

 

“Don’t worry, I know exactly what dresses would suit you.” Madame Christmas pointed at Winry and said. “Blue. Sweetheart neckline. And an A-line skirt.”

 

“You,” She pointed at Mei. “You would look good in pink—”

 

“Actually, I’m appearing as an Imperial Princess, so I need to wear something with purple and gold in it. And, nothing frilly. I’m tired of looking like a little girl.”

 

Madame Christmas smirked. “Don’t worry. I’ve got a dress in mind. And, no one’s going to think you’re a little girl in it. Trust me.”

 

“As long as it’s not too revealing,” Riza said.

 

“Please. I have taste, you know.”

 

“And you,” Madame Christmas looked at Lan Fan. “You’d look good in purple as well.”

 

“No! I can’t wear purple. Only members of the Imperial family can wear purple.”

 

“No one’s going to fuss about that,” Madame Christmas said, waving her cigarette dismissively. “Men like it when you wear their colours.”

 

Lan Fan’s eyes widened. “The Emperor isn’t mine—”

 

“Madame Christmas,” Riza interjected. “do you have anything in either black or silver?”

 

Madame Christmas frowned for a moment. Then, her eyes lit up.  “I think so. Yes, I think I know the perfect dress.”

 

“It can’t have sleeves on the left arm. The automail might hook and tear the fabric,” Winry said quickly.

 

“Don’t worry. I’ve fitted dresses for automail patients before.”

 

“Thank you,” Riza said.

 

“Now, I’ll go get the dresses for these two. And, I’ll bring you yours as well. You can wait in the change room.”

 

“Thank you.”

 

Madame Christmas disappeared through the beaded curtain. As Winry and Mei started talking, Riza seized Lan Fan’s arm.

 

“Come with me.”  

 

***

 

Riza’s eyes met Lan Fan’s in the mirror, as Riza turned and exposed her bare back to Lan Fan.

 

“Horrific, isn’t it?” Riza said softly.

 

She’d brought Lan Fan into one of the change rooms. As usual, the room was cramped and dimly lit by the dusty lightbulb dangling above them. It had a familiar, musty smell in it. Probably caused by the velvet curtain that hung over the doorway.

 

“What is it?” The younger woman asked, as her eyes roved over Riza’s back.

 

“This is the pinnacle of my father’s research. The secrets of flame alchemy.”

 

Lan Fan reached towards Riza, only to stop half-way.

 

“Those—those are burn scars. How did you  . . .?”

 

“The Colonel gave them to me.”

 

“ _What?_ Why?” she sounded appalled.

 

“Because I asked him to. I saw what flame alchemy did in Ishval,” as she spoke Riza fought to remain in the present. To not smell charred corpses on the wind. To not hear the screams. “And, I decided that the secrets of flame alchemy were too dangerous for the world to know. So, I asked the Colonel to burn my back, and make sure that he would be the only flame alchemist.”

 

“I see.”

 

“After it was done, I couldn’t look at myself in the mirror. Mostly, because of Ishval, I won’t lie. But, there was a small part of me that wondered what kind of man would look at such hideous scars and think ‘beautiful’.” Riza couldn’t stop the soft smile that crept across her face. “The Colonel is that type of man. And, I believe Ling and Greed are as well.”

 

Lan Fan started and her eyes went round. “I-I don’t . . .”

 

“Don’t worry. It’s not so obvious to anyone except me. I’m trained to be observant.”

 

Actually, Riza was pretty sure everyone knew, but she didn’t want to embarrass Lan Fan any further.

 

Lan Fan clenched her fists. “It’s stupid. I shouldn’t feel—it’s not possible.”

 

Riza tilted her head. “Lan Fan, what do you know of the Amestrian military?”

 

“Not much. I know your country is a military state, and that it’s the military which keeps order and runs the country.

 

“But, what do you know of our laws? Specifically, our anti-fraternisation laws?”

 

“I’ve never heard of those.”

 

“They’re a set of laws which prohibit intimate relations between members of the military. They forbid members of the military from dating or marrying each other.”

 

Lan Fan’s eyes went wide. “But, aren’t you and the Colonel . . .”

 

“We are. And, because of it, we could both loose our jobs, be fined or even be imprisoned.”

 

“Then, why would you . . .”

 

“Because I couldn’t deny what I felt for him. So, this was the only option.” Riza’s eyes met Lan Fan’s again in the mirror. “I understand what you’re going through better than you think. But, I can tell you that you have a real chance at happiness in front of you. That is, if you’re willing to fight for it.”

 

“I-it’s impossible.”

 

“Not as impossible as you think.”

 

Riza lowered her shirt and turned around. Lan Fan was staring at the floor. Her fists were still clenched.  Riza reached out and laid a hand on her shoulder.

 

Lan Fan swallowed hard.  “I-is it worth it?”

 

Riza’s grip tightened on Lan Fan’s shoulder. “That’s something you have to decide for yourself. But, for me . . . Yes. Absolutely yes.”  

 

***

 

Greed was getting fed up with Ling. Ling would walk to the window, search the crowd, and heave a sigh when he could neither see, nor sense, Lan Fan.

 

_You little pissant, if you don’t stop pacing, I swear I’m going to throttle you._

 

_I’d like to see you try. Anyway, do you see her?_

 

_I can only see what you look at, idiot._

 

Ling scowled, and went to the window again. Major Armstrong had taken them to a more private section of the house, so they could wait comfortably for their entrance. The room was elegantly furnished with leather couches and carefully carved tables. There were panelled walls with a huge painting of a mountain scene on the one wall, and a mirror on the opposite side. A plate of finger foods had been left out for them: crackers smeared with pate, fried cheese, and slices of fruits dusted with sugar. Ling had already polished it off, much to Greed’s irritation

 

Though, as they looked out the window, Greed had to admit, the Armstrong Mansion looked stunning. Not a patch on the Imperial Palace, but not bad. Cobblestone paths wound through the manicured lawns and past ornate pieces of topiary. Huge rosebushes bloomed, and perfumed the air with their heavy scent. The fountain splashed merrily as the lights from the lanterns caught and glistened in its waters. He could hear the excited voices of the guests as they arrived in rumbling automobiles.

 

_I still don’t see her._

 

 _If you’re so worried, why the hell did you agree to let her come later? She’s_ our _partner after all._

 

_She didn’t want to be in the spotlight when we are introduced as the Emperor to everyone. I didn’t want to make her feel uncomfortable._

 

_Doesn’t want to be in the spotlight? A woman like her deserves to be noticed._

 

 _I know. . . Do you think she’s inside already? Maybe I should—_ Greed grabbed control, ignoring Ling’s protests. He deliberately turned away from the window, and went to the mirror.

 

Lan Fan would be fine. The Elrics had promised to look after her. Al had even gone so far as to offer to walk her into the ballroom. Greed was still deciding whether he was going to punch Al for the offer.  

 

_The crown’s crooked._

 

_Tough. I like it at this angle._

 

Their outfit was a result of extensive arguments between him and Ling. The traditional outfit was made up of multiple layers of robes, but Greed had managed to argue Ling down to three: a crimson outer robe with gold hem, an inner robe that was a shade of deep purple, and a black tunic beneath it. Better still, he’d managed to convince Ling to shorten the robes to mid-calf and let him wear trousers underneath. His exact words had been “ _If these stupid things sweep the ground any more, we might as well hire ourselves out as a janitor.”_ The only thing that annoyed him about the outfit was the bandage Ling insisted on tying around their left hand. Who really cared what a bunch of Amestrian’s thought, anyway? He smirked at himself in the mirror.

 

_I look sexy._

 

I _look sexy. It’s my body after all._

 

_You lost the right to say that years ago, kid._

 

_True._

 

The door creaked, and Greed glanced at the doorway’s reflection in the mirror. He nodded approvingly.

 

“Looking good, Half-pint.”

 

“Thanks, Greed,” she said, as she revolved slowly for him to get a better look, while Xiao Mei mimicked her from her seat on Mei’s shoulder.

 

Whoever had designed Mei’s dress had decided to tale the traditional high collar and sleeveless Xingese style and modernise it. The back was almost completely open, and there was a panel cut in the front to display a hint of cleavage. The purple fabric of her dress clung to her body, revealing the curves she usually kept hidden by her casual clothes. The entire thing was covered with gold embroidery of flowers, and the four sacred Xingese animals: tiger; turtle; dragon and phoenix.

 

 _Where’s my sword when I need it?_ Ling growled.

 

_What do you need your sword for?_

 

 _Moron, if_ we _can see Mei’s curves, so can all the other men._

 

Greed hadn’t realised _that_. He scowled, and covered his arms with the Ultimate Shield. He turned to face Mei.

 

“Go change.”

 

“What?”

 

“Put something else on. You’re not wearing that to the ball.”

 

 “You just said I looked good!”

 

“You look _too_ good,” Greed snarled. “We’re not having every man in Amestris panting after you like a pack of dogs.”

 

She stared at him incredulously. Then, her eyes became soft. She exchanged a glance with Xiao Mei. She crossed the room and kissed them on the cheek.

 

“You two are the best older brother I could ask for.”

 

Greed rubbed their cheek awkwardly. “Don’t try to change the subject. Go change.”

 

“I can’t. This is the only dress I bought.”

 

_Fine. But, tell her that if I see anyone looking at her, I’ll use your Ultimate Shield to tear out their eyes._

 

“Okay, Half-pint. But, if anyone checks you out, they’re dead.”

 

 “Oh, for—”

 

The door burst open. Greed dismissed the Ultimate Shield as he bit back the urge to groan.

 

_Not this sparkly idiot._

 

Ling snickered. _At least he’s still wearing his—_

 

There was a ripping sound, and shreds of fabric flitted though the air as Alex Louis Armstrong struck a pose.

 

_Nevermind._

 

“Are you ready for your grand entrance!” Alex boomed, as he looked the three of them over.

 

Greed opened his mouth, and immediately felt Ling clawing for control.

 

 _Don’t you_ dare _, Greed!_

 

_Oh, come on! All I was going to do was ask him to please put on a fucking shirt!_

***

 

Ling hung back, content to let Greed manoeuvre them through the crowds. Socialising, or, as Greed put it “schmoozing” was something Ling had never quite liked about being Emperor. Oh, he could do it brilliantly when he had to, and he knew why he had to do it—but why do it when he could hand over to Greed? The homunculus adored being the centre of attention, and with his suave, amicable personality, could easily command the crowd. Especially a diverse crowd like this. There were women in elaborate ball gowns that swept the floor as they walked, and men in stylishly cut suits and polished shoes. It seemed that military personnel had been given a choice whether to wear their formal clothes—like the Roy and Riza had chosen to do—or to wear their dress uniforms. Ling had seen Brigadier General Armstrong earlier, proudly wearing her black dress uniform, and chatting to a broad-shouldered Ishvallan with an “X” shaped scar on his face.

 

Yep, Greed was good at working a crowd. Not that Ling would ever tell him that. No need to give Greed a bigger ego than he already had.

 

_You don’t need to tell me anything. I caught your thoughts._

 

Ling winced internally as Greed chuckled, and took a gulp of wine. They looked about the room, and Ling had to admit, the Armstrongs had out-done themselves in preparing the ball. The hardwood floor gleamed beneath their feet, and caught the light of the spectacular crystal chandelier that dangled over the heads of the guests. Light was provided also by the dozens of brass candelabras dotted about the room. An orchestra was seated on the dais to the left of the dancefloor, its music pouring onto the dancefloor, and sending dancers twirling in elegant patterns. The air was fragranced by the vases of flowers around the room, and the food. . .  

 

 _The food_.

 

If Ling had been in control, his mouth would be watering. The Armstrongs had piled huge tables high with food, and arranged them around the room. On the tables were a wide variety of dishes. There were little parcels of pastry oozing with cheese; fish rolled into balls, and coated in a spicy, bread-crumb crust; tiny skewers of meat, which had been soaked in a wine sauce; fried slices of cheese, and slices of fresh bread, with butter soaking into the soft flesh.  That wasn’t all, though. Ling could see bubbling vats of either oil or cheese mounted on the tables. Surrounding them were trays filled with carefully carved slices of raw meat, or fish or chicken, as well as cauliflower, vegetables, or mushrooms. As Ling watched, a woman skewered a piece of meat with a prong, and dipped it into the oil. There was a sizzle. After a few moments, she pulled out the freshly cooked meat, and took a bite.

 

_Oh, we have got to try that._

 

_You act like you’ve never seen food before. You’re worse than Gluttony._

 

_That’s low._

Greed ignored Ling and finished off his wine. He reached for another glass.

 

“You might want to slow down on those.”

 

Greed turned and raised an eyebrow. An old man with a pointed moustache stood behind him. The buttons on his black, dress uniform gleamed almost as brightly as his round glasses, as he looked Greed up and down.

 

“What did you say?”

 

“I said you might want to take it easy. Although, a tale about a drunk Xingese Emperor might be highly amusing.”

 

Greed snorted. “I prefer the stories about the drunk old man instead.”

 

Ling snatched control away from Greed.

 

_What the hell, you little pissant?_

 

_Greed, you moron, that’s Fuhrer Grumman!_

 

Ling chuckled. “I’m sorry, Fuhrer. I didn’t recognise you in your dress uniform.”

 

Fuhrer Grumman laughed, though he looked a bit confused. “It’s fine. I barely recognise myself in this thing. Now, are you enjoying yourself?”

 

“It is a splendid party, but I have to ask, why did you ask the Armstrongs to throw the party, instead of doing it yourself?”

 

Fuhrer Grumman smirked. “What the good of being Fuhrer if you can’t get other people to do the dirty work for you?”

 

_I like this guy!_

 

“There are some perks to being in charge,” Ling admitted.

 

He shared a grin with the Fuhrer, and the Fuhrer clapped him on the arm.

 

“One of the perks to being in charge is that you get to flirt with all the lovely ladies.”

 

_Does he mean all the useless doilies we’ve met tonight?_

 

Ling stepped smartly back. “Erm, no, thank you.”

 

“Why not? There are several lovely ladies who must be dying for some attention from an Emperor.”

 

_Except the only badass woman we want attention from isn’t here yet, hey, partner?_

 

“I’m sure they do, but it’s a policy I have. I don’t flirt unless I have a real interest in a woman.”

 

 _Kid, you don’t flirt even when you_ are _interested in a woman._

 

_Shut up._

 

The Fuhrer’s eyes slipped past Ling to something over his shoulder. “Well, I can see that Alphonse has decided on a partner.”

 

Ling turned and frowned. Al was standing there, a glass of water in his hand. His eyes were fixed on Mei, who was jabbering away to an Ishvallan with an “x” shaped scar on his face—the same one who’d been talking to Brigadier General Armstrong. There was a look on Al’s face . . . Ling’s fists clenched, and he had to stop himself from drawing on Greed’s Ultimate Shield.

 

“I’m sorry, but, if you’ll excuse me, I have to go.”

 

The Fuhrer waved aside Ling’s apology. “Very well. Just make sure you enjoy yourself. I didn’t throw this party for nothing.”

 

 _You didn’t throw this party in the first place,_ Ling thought, and he heard Greed snort.

 

Ling turned his back on Fuhrer Grumman and made his way over to Al. It was a bit of a challenge, manuevering through the crowd, when people kept trying to intercept him to talk about some policy or trade agreement. He managed to deflect all their conversations, and continued on his way, dodging guests and waitrons alike, until he was right beside Al. He placed their hand on Al’s shoulder.

 

“Mei looks beautiful tonight, doesn’t she?” Ling said.

 

“Yeah.”

 

“Now, Al, since you’re my friend, I’m going to give you a warning. If you ever do anything to hurt her, I can and _will_ use my army to crush you and this sorry country into dust. Failing that, I’ll gut you with my sword.”

 

“Screw the sword,” Greed said, as he seized control. “You hurt Mei, and I’ll rip out your throat.”

 

Al gaped at them. “What the hell? I thought we were friends.

 

Greed grinned. “We are, that’s why we’re warning you.”

 

“I happen to lo—”

 

“Alphonse,” Mei suddenly appeared and grabbed Al’s arm, as Xiao Mei leapt onto his shoulder. “I just saw Dr Marcoh, I think. Come on, we have to go say hello!”

 

Ling grabbed control back. “Hey, have either of you seen Lan Fan?”

 

Al shrugged. “She came in with us, but she said she didn’t feel comfortable in the limelight, and vanished.

 

 _Of course she did._ “Thanks.”

 

Mei and Al disappeared, and Ling grabbed another glass of wine. He glanced idly around the room, as he sipped. Suddenly, the hair on the back of his neck stood up. Someone was watching them. He snapped his gaze towards his observer.

 

The air rushed out his lungs.

 

He tried to breathe, inhaled his wine and chocked. He staggered backwards, spluttering and stared at the woman through watering eyes.

 

It was Lan Fan.

 

_It was Lan Fan._

She wore a black and silver dress that was simple by the standard of the ballroom, but, hell, she outshone _every_ woman there. Her dark hair had been pulled into a knot at the base of her neck, and the silver embroidery on her dress winked at him with each of her breaths. Her sash hugged her hips, and the skirt swayed suggestively with each movement. Had she always been so  . . . so . . .

 

_Beautiful? Incredible? Wonderful? Alluring? Pick a fucking adjective!_

 

_Piss off, Greed._

 

_I got more: Magnificent? Majestic? Amazing? Gorgeous? Sexy as hell?_

 

_None of those are good enough._

 

_Oh hell, have you got it bad._

 

_Shut up._

 

_Why? You can’t deny it—I can feel your emotions, remember?_

 

_And I can read yours. I’m not the only one in love with her._

 

_. . . shut up._

 

_Too scared to admit it, Greed?_

 

_You’re one to talk. You’ve had, what over a decade to admit you love her, and nothing. Not even a kiss._

 

Ling scowled. _That’s none of your business._

 

Greed snorted. _Oh please. We share a body, remember? That makes it my business. And speaking of our business, what the_ fuck _is that asshole doing talking to our girl?”_

 

Ling’s attention snapped to the room. Sure enough, an Amestiran man in a grey suit was chatting to Lan Fan. Ling clenched his fists, and felt a tingling on his arms. He glanced down, and saw he now had a set of talons and a grey coating on his skin. Ling started and dismissed the Ultimate Shield, looking around frantically in case someone saw it.

 

_Greed! What the hell?! Do you know what could happen if anyone finds out we’re a homunculus?!_

 

_I don’t care. Get that bastard away from Toots, partner, or tomorrow’s headlines are going to read ‘Homunculus Xingese Emperor massacres Amestrian man.’_

Ling swallowed, and glanced back across the room. The Amestrian bastard was still smiling at Lan Fan. Ling slammed his glass down on the nearest table, and marched across the room.

 

After all, Greed wasn’t the only one that was possessive over their things.

 

***

 

Lan Fan glanced around the room from the shadow of the pillar. She had a good vantage point from here. She could see the Emperor moving amongst the crowd, talking to various people. Though, she felt a black anger stab her whenever they stopped and spoke with one of the beautiful Amestrian women. She forced herself to remain calm. She moved deeper into the shadow, and stilled her breathing. Inhale. Exhale. Inhale. Exhale. She could feel the humming of the Dragon’s Pulse beneath her feet. She could sense the crowd’s energy pulsing around her, and better still, she could sense the rancid qi emanating from the Emperor’s body. She could also pick out the various guests if she really concentrated . . . and she noticed that one was approaching her.

 

She turned, and saw the young man jump. He was taller than her, with cropped, dark hair and blue eyes. He was wearing a neat grey suit, but the top buttons of his shirt were undone.  He carried a glass of wine in each hand.

 

“Good evening,” Lan Fan said politely, and bowed.

 

The man smiled at her. “Yes, it is. And, I brought a drink for the beautiful lady.”

 

He held the one glass out towards her. She plucked it from his fingers and set it down on the table.

 

“I’m sorry, I don’t drink.”

 

He winced. “Well, now I feel like an idiot.”

 

“It’s all right, you didn’t know.” She wished the man would leave. He was distracting her from her surveillance.

 

“I’m Antonio Atuchos. And you are?”

 

“Lan Fan of Xing.”

 

“Wow, I’ve never met anyone from Xing before. Are all Xingese women as beautiful as you?”

 

She started, and suddenly gave him her full attention. His blue eyes were roving on over her body in a way that made her feel uncomfortable. She swallowed.

 

“Excuse me?”

 

“I asked if all Xingese women are as beautiful as you.”

 

 She raised her eyebrows. “I think you may have had a bit too much wine.”

 

He laughed. “Nope. I’m just trying to give you a compliment. After all, it would be immoral of me to let a beautiful woman spend the evening alone.”

 

“I’m not alone.”

 

He raised an eyebrow. “Really?”

 

“Yes, I have a-a partner.” She could feel the blush rising in her cheeks. She really shouldn’t describe the Emperor and Greed as her _partner_ , but she wasn’t exactly sure what term to use.

 

“Oh? Then where is he?”

 

“He’s somewhere around here.”

 

Antonio shook his head. “He seems like a bit of a jerk, if he’s left you all—”

 

“There you are, Lan Fan. I’ve been looking everywhere for you.”

 

It was the Emperor’s voice. She nearly sighed in relief. She turned, ready to apologise over her absence—

 

And felt the words tangle as she stared at them. Of course, the Imperial regalia was impressive enough on its own, but she could see the broadness of their shoulders filling it out. The way the material hinted at the muscular physique beneath. The dark hair she longed to feel between her fingers.

 

Then she noticed the Emperor’s irritated expression. She immediately pressed her hands together and bowed.

 

“I apologise, Your Majesty.”

 

The Emperor sighed. “Lan Fan, I told you you’re here as my partner, not as my guard. You don’t have to bow to me.”

 

“Your partner is the Emperor of Xing?”

 

Lan Fan started. She’d forgotten that Antonio was there. The man was staring at the two of them with an open mouth. As he did, she noticed that the Emperor had come closer to her, and placed a hand on her shoulder, right were the automail connected to her flesh.

 

“Erm, he—”

 

“And, what do you mean, a guard?”

 

“She is the Imperial Guard. One of the most important positions in the Xingese Court. And, she’s the best there is.”

 

Then, his eyes opened, and she knew from the smirk that Greed had taken temporary control. “The very best.”

 

Their praise made something warm ignite in her chest. She was about to say something, when he spoke again—in the Emperor’s voice.

 

“Excuse us,” he said to Antonio, and led her away from him—and onto the dancefloor. The music had started up again, in a gentle melody that wrapped around them.

 

“Your Majesty, what are you doing?” she hissed.

 

“We’re going to dance.”

 

“ _Dance?!_ Since when do you know Amestrian dancing?”

 

“I don’t.”

 

“But I do,” Greed said.

 

She swallowed. The dancefloor around them was already full of couples. She could see Ed and Winry on the edge of the dancefloor. Ed had his hands on Winry’s waist and was slowly revolving them on the spot. A flash of red caught her attention. It was the Colonel and the Lieutenant. They whirled around the dancefloor, with burning gazes locked on each other. She looked away from the couples and her eyes found their way to Greed’s—but it seemed like the Emperor was staring at her as well.

 

“I don’t know how to dance,” she said.

 

But, she didn’t pull away from them. Not when Greed placed her automail hand on their shoulder. Not when he took her flesh hand in their own and certainly not when Greed slid their hand onto her waist.  “It’s simple, Toots. Just a simple count. One. Two. Three. One. Two. Three.”

 

As he counted, he started moving, and her body responded to their touch.

 

The ballroom dissolved as they spun around. She could feel it, the ebb and flow of the music that kept to that gentle count of _one. Two. Three._ Greed never stopped the count, and she lost herself in the decadent sound of his voice. In the warm presence of their hands on her body. She glanced at his face, and their eyes were blazing. Her feelings seethed.

 

_Damn him. Damn the Emperor. Damn them both._

 

Then the music slowed, and he pulled her closer, so that their bodies were flush. He leant in, and their lips brushed the shell of her ear.

 

“Having fun, Toots?”

 

Fun? She was having too much fun. That was the whole damn problem.

 

She swallowed hard, and forced herself to step away.

 

“I-I need some air.”

 

There was an odd expression on his face, but before Lan Fan could identify it, the Emperor took over and smiled at her. He seized her hand in his.

 

“Then let’s go.”

 

***

 

_Oi, kid, what are you doing?_

 

Ling didn’t answer. He was moving their body through the gardens, away from the bustle of the crowd. Lan Fan was right beside them, as usual.

 

_Kid, where are we going?_

 

_You’ll see._

 

Greed sighed, and resigned himself to whatever Ling had planned. Ling led Lan Fan away from the mansion, to an area of the gardens that was less . . . orderly. Not that there was anything overgrown, exactly. But, they were entering a grove of willow trees, and the way the wind whispered through there dangling branches made it seem more private. Greed could see the gleam of water from between the gnarled tree trunks. A pond? No, it was the Armstrong Mansion—any pond they had was bound to the size of a small lake.

 

“Here we are,” Ling said suddenly.

 

He pointed at a small wooden dock that stretched out into the waters. It looked sturdy enough, as did the rowboat tied to it. The boat had been lovingly painted with images of dolphins and waves, and had the name _Aphrodite_ in cursive on its side.  

 

“Your Majesty, why are we here?” Lan Fan asked.

 

“You wanted a break from the party, right?” He smiled at her. “I thought this might be a good solution?”

 

Lan Fan eyed the boat doubtfully.

 

Ling nudged her. “Come on. We haven’t snuck away from our duties in years.”

 

“We’re not _supposed_ to.”

 

“Why don’t we do it, just one last time? For old time’s sake, please?”

 

“I’m not sure . . .”

 

“Come on, Lan Fan. Are you going to make me beg? I’ll do it, you know—though I might ruin my outfit.”

 

She snorted. “All right.”

 

***

 

It was peaceful out on the pond. It certainly wasn’t silent, though. The water lapped at the sides of the boat, and Greed could hear the chirrup of frogs and the buzzing of insects hidden in the rustling reeds. Moonlight glistened off the surface of the water, and it shattered with each movement of the oars. Lan Fan sat opposite them, and their knees occasionally brushed. Her eyes were fixed on the banks. Ling kept their eyes fixed on Lan Fan.

 

Not that Greed was complaining.

 

“Look,” Lan Fan said suddenly, as she pointed.

 

They followed her finger and saw dozens of fireflies hovering over the surface of the pond. As they watched, the fireflies drifted across the water towards them, until they were surrounded by their own private galaxy.

 

Greed chuckled. _Oh, I see what you’re doing. Very smooth, kid._

 

_What are you talking about?_

 

 _A boatride. By moonlight. With fireflies. You don’t get more romantic than that. You_ want _her._

 

_I—_

 

_Look at her, you damn idiot._

 

Ling obeyed—and Greed felt his emotions spike. The moonlight glistened off the silver embroidery in her dress, and turned her automail into quicksilver. The slit in her skirt shifted, offering them tantalising glimpses of her legs. A tendril had come out of her hairstyle, and kissed the corner of her mouth. Greed had never been jealous of a piece of hair before but . . . goddamnit, that _mouth_. That soft, curvaceous mouth.

 

_You know you want her. And I want her damnit! So, do something about it!_

 

_I-I can’t._

 

_Why the hell not?_

 

_What if she doesn’t want to? Or worse, what if she doesn’t want to, but she does it because she feel like she has to, because I’m the Emperor? The last thing I want to do is force her to do something she doesn’t want to do._

 

_So you’re going to do nothing?_

_. . . yes._

 

If he’d been in his own body, Greed would have been banging his head against the wall at this point. _You know what? If you want something done right_ , _you’ve got to do it yourself._

 

He wrenched control away from Ling.

 

 _Greed, what are the hell?_ Ling demanded, as he battled for control.

 

Greed gritted his teeth, and shoved him back. Ling was _strong,_ damnit! But, he eventually forced Ling back far enough so that he _couldn’t_ take over—at least, for a little while. He ignored Ling’s protests, and grinned at Lan Fan. She hadn’t noticed the little exchange between him and Ling. Her eyes were fixed on the lazy dance of the fireflies.

 

“Beautiful.”

 

“Yes, they are.”

 

“I wasn’t talking about the bugs, Toots.”

 

Lan Fan’s eyes widened and he watched the blush creep across her skin. He loved making her blush. He moved closer to her.

 

_Greed what are you doing?_

 

_Thank me later._

 

_What, no! Greed, don’t you—_

 

“Hey Toots, can I ask you something?”

 

They were closer together now. Close enough for him to see the fireflies reflected in her eyes. Close enough for her breath to brush their face. Her breathing was ragged. “W-what?”

 

“If I—or Ling—did something you didn’t like, you’d let us know, right?”

 

“Of course.”

 

“Good. So, Toots, if you don’t like this, well . . . you’re welcome to hit me.”

 

He closed the gap and covered her mouth with theirs.

 

 _GREED! WHAT THE FUCK ARE YOU DOING?! HOW COULD YOU_ —her lips moved against theirs and thought became impossible for both of them because she tasted warm and sweet. Oh hell, this was better than he’d ever hoped it could be. Now, her hands were in their hair, and their palms were moving along her thigh. The kiss became clumsier, and Greed couldn’t remember when Ling had taken control. He honestly couldn’t care either because he was still burning from the sensation of the kiss, and it was enough to make the world rock.  

 

Hang on, the world _was_ rocking violently back and forth.

 

_You little pissant, you’re going to make us—_

 

The world lurched sideways and they were flung into the cold water.

 

***

 

Water surged into her lungs. She chocked, and lashed out as she tried to find the surface. The fabric of her dress tangled her legs, and dragged her down. She kicked out and lost her shoes. She surged upwards and felt the water shatter as she broke the pond’s surface. She thrust her legs down and her feet sank into the slimy bottom of the pond.

 

 _Good thing it’s shallow,_ she thought, as she stood, and let the water reach just under her chin.

 

But, where were—

 

“Your Majesty? Greed? Your Majesty! Greed!” she screamed, snapping her head back and forth as she tried to find them.

 

Relief slammed into her as she heard spluttering behind her. She spun around, and saw the Emperor standing in the pond, the water barely reaching his shoulders. His crown had been lost in the mud somewhere beneath his feet. No time to worry about that now. She paddled over to them and grabbed his arm.

 

“Are you hurt?”

 

“We’re fine. It’s not too deep.” He shoved wet hair out his eyes.

 

“Come on.”

 

She tugged him towards the edge, where the waters lapped against the muddy banks. They hauled themselves out the water and flopped down on the grass, a short distance from the pond. Lan Fan rolled onto her back, panting hard—though whether it was from the adrenalin rush, or—or the—or the _other thing_ , she couldn’t tell. Above her, the branches of the willow trees hissed as the wind moved through them. Moonlight flickered between the leaves, giving the area an intimate, dappled lighting. . . . maybe too intimate. She sat up, and looked down at herself.  Her dress clung to her skin, and she could feel her hair was plastered to her neck and shoulders.

 

A glance at the Emperor saw that their clothes were similarly ruined, and they’d lost the bandage over their tattoo. It seemed to glow as brightly as their eyes in the dappled light. Her breath caught, as she noticed how the fabric clung to their sculpted frame. How good their dark hair looked as it snaked across their skin.  Her eyes travelled along the perfect planes of their body, up to their lips. Their inviting lips. She jerked her eyes away, and felt something wrench inside her. She took a few deep breaths, and looked back at them.

 

She swallowed hard. “Your Majesty, why did you kiss me?”

 

The Emperor sat up and rubbed the back of his neck. “I’m so, so sorry about that, Lan Fan. It won’t happen again.”

 

Lan Fan tried to ignore the ripping sensation in her chest. “O—okay, I—”

 

Her words were cut off, as the Emperor doubled over, clutching at his head.

 

“No, Greed I—”

 

Suddenly, Greed straightened out and grinned at her.

 

“Greed, what’s going on?” Lan Fan demanded.

 

“You wanna know why I kissed you?

 

“Yes.” Her pulse was thundering in her ears.

 

“I kissed you because I got fed up with Ling’s whining. He’s completely in love with you, and he doesn’t have the guts to do anything about it.”

 

“The—The Emperor _loves_ me?” she said, blankly.

 

“Yep. He has ever since you were little kids, so why he hasn’t had the guts to tell you before now is beyond me. I mean, I’m in love with you too, and I don’t act nearly as pathetic as he does!”

 

Her jaw flopped open. His eyes went round. They stared at each other, and then Greed scowled.

 

“Oh, fuck off, you damn pissant, it’s not that funny.”

 

Lan Fan was having trouble breathing. Her mind was spinning. “L-love me? You? And the Emperor? You _both_ love me?”

 

“Look, Toots, I don’t do mushy—no, I’m not lying. Would you just mind your own business. No, you’re not involved in this. I don’t care if you love her too, I’m trying to . . . no, I don’t need help. What kind of help can you give anyway? You didn’t even tell her yourself!”

 

“This—this can’t be—it’s impossible,” she muttered, ignoring their arguments.

 

Greed’s eyes fixed on her, and he gave her a razor grin.

 

“You know I don’t believe in “impossible.” Anyway, why not?”

 

“What?”

 

“Why shouldn’t we be in love with you?”

 

Because she was a commoner? Because she was his guard? Because she had none of the talents that a noble lady should have? There were so many reasons she could have listed. Instead, her eyes moved away from their face and down to her automail. The water glistened as it dripped off the metal, and she could see every bolt and screw in the dappled light from the moon.

 

Greed inhaled sharply. “Your arm? Is that what this is about?”

 

She didn’t answer. She could feel tears stinging her eyes. It was _ridiculous_. She was a warrior. Her role was to be weapon and shield. She wasn’t supposed to want them to think her . . . pretty.

 

She felt them take her automail hand between theirs. “Lan Fan,” apparently Greed had given the Emperor back control. “You cut off your arm so you could save me.”

 

She hadn’t really had a choice. He had been too stubborn to leave her behind, and there was no way she was going to let those monsters harm him. Between her arm and his life, she knew which one she valued more.

 

“This automail . . . why  do you think I would find it ugly? It’s a part of you, and I think you’re beautiful. I always have.” Suddenly, his eyes widened. “No, Greed, I’m not letting you say _that_.”

 

“What did he say?”

 

“I’ll clean up his language, but he says that you’re a badass. All right, don’t start yelling. You’re so impatient . . . he said you’re a _sexy_ badass.”

 

She flushed, and Ling smiled. A second later, and it was Greed grinning at her. “Toots, I just want to know one thing—and be honest—why did you kiss me, sorry, us, back?”

 

She took a deep breath, and looked into their wine-coloured eyes.

 

“I kissed you back because I love you two.”

 

Their eyes blazed, and Greed leant in. She ached to tilt back her head and taste their mouth again. Instead, she placed her palm on their chest, stopping them short.

 

“We-we can’t. It’s against tradition, and the Court—”

 

“Fuck the Court,” Greed snarled. “I’ve had it with you and Ling and this commoner-nobility forbidden-love crap. It’s just a bunch of rules put in place to make everyone miserable. Anyway, the brat’s got a long history of breaking rules: don’t talk with your mouth full; don’t steal from the kitchens; don’t befriend the demonic presence possessing your body—what’s one more?”

 

“I—”

 

“Lan Fan. I love you, and you’re the first person I’ve ever said that too, in over the two hundred years I’ve been alive.” Greed groaned.  “Fuck, this sounds _pathetic_. . . but it’s true.”

 

 “Lan Fan.” And there was the Emperor again. They were making her dizzy from their rapid switching. “Greed’s right. I love you. And, if you really love us, then I want you by my—by our—side. I don’t care what anyone else says.”

_But, I can tell you that you have a real chance at happiness in front of you. That is, if you’re willing to fight for it._

Her fingers curled, grabbing a fistful of their robes.

 

“I’m willing,” she whispered.

 

“What?”

 

“I’m willing to fight for the three of us, together.”

 

She kissed them. Her soul sang. They kissed her back.

**Author's Note:**

> And, here it is. It's conceptualized as an AU to my story "A Christmas Gift"
> 
> I hope everyone enjoyed it, and I thank everyone who's read or given my kudos or dropped me a comment--it means so much, and you have no idea how you guys keep me going.


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